Crime Traveller: After the Crystal
by EllisHendricks
Summary: Crime Traveller, Holly/Slade romance, post-The Broken Crystal: With the machine restored to working order and Stephen Marlowe out of the picture, Slade isn't prepared to wait any longer...


**After the Crystal**

_Author notes: Just my take on what could have happened in the immediate aftermath of the final episode..._

"What were you saying, about you and me?"

Holly looked at Slade's outstretched hand and the crystal resting in his palm. It was still hard to believe what she was seeing, and she knew that Slade's choices of words were deliberate. In asking her this one question, he was in fact probing for something more. Or at least that's what she thought he was doing.

She tentatively reached out her hand, fixing his gaze with her own. As she slid her fingers around the glass-and-niobium casing of the crystal, she felt Slade's hand close around hers. He caressed the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb, and was looking at her with an intensity that both frightened and thrilled. He wanted a commitment, but it was one that would bind them together indefinitely. Holly couldn't help but be pricked by doubt; why was he doing this now? Did he think that, because he had brought her the crystal, he had earned the right to unlimited time-travel? Or if his intentions went beyond their professional lives, where had that come from, and why now? The timing seemed both perfect and at the same time very suspect.

Slade allowed her to take the crystal from him, but as she did so she noticed his hand. The palm of his hand and the pads of his fingers were puckered with blisters, presumably from the heat of the fire at Webb Biotech.

"Holly?" he said, pressing her to address what he'd said. She didn't need to look at him to feel the weight of his stare.

"Slade, did you even run your hand under cold water?" she asked, holding his hand up to show him what she meant. "It must be painful. Wait here."

He started to protest, but let her go, setting the crystal down on the table as she left. When Holly was in the relative privacy of her bathroom, she felt as though she was finally able to breathe. The past two days had been too much to process. It had all started with an evening at the cinema, which had begun to resemble a date. Then Stephen Marlowe suddenly appeared in her life again, and all hell broke loose; she'd nearly died, for heaven's sake, and so had Slade. Had these events caused Slade to re-evaluate their relationship, or was he just doing this to ensure he remained the sole keeper of her secret? Trying to focus her thoughts was almost impossible, and Holly knew the reason why – she was in love with Slade, and that scared her.

She collected some gauze wrapping and, shoring herself up she returned to the living room. Slade hadn't moved, except to fetch his bottle of beer, which he set down again when he saw Holly. He allowed her to guide him to the sofa, and she set to work on his hand.

"It's really not that bad, Holly," he protested, gently.

"You don't want it to get infected," she replied, aware that if she looked up she would almost certainly give in to him. Part of her questioned whether giving in to Slade would really be such a bad thing, but common sense reminded her where that had got her in the past.

She carefully wrapped his hand, getting him to wiggle his fingers to ensure she hadn't secured the bandage too tightly. As Holly started to get up to return the remaining gauze to the bathroom, Slade caught her arm; she had no choice but to sit back down again. Before she could open her mouth to say anything, and without letting go of her arm, Slade leaned in towards her and kissed her. Before Holly had time to register what was happening, she found herself kissing him back. The kiss was soft and searching, asking and answering a hundred questions. Holly felt Slade move his hand through her hair, and her fingers started to navigate the contours of his face. The kiss was intensifying now, as Slade clearly realised she was returning it with equal feeling.

It felt like a thousand flashbulbs going off in Holly's mind, such was the sensory overload. Suddenly, Slade broke away.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking into her eyes intently. She could see how dilated his pupils were, and knew hers were the same.

Holly nodded, and in return received a self-confident grin from Slade. Not taking his eyes off her, he yanked off his jacket and cast it onto the floor, before moving in to kiss her again. This time, Holly noted, his hands were starting to explore new territory, and it gave her the confidence to do the same. In the past, every passing physical contact that occurred between them had been both exciting and agonising to Holly, but this was in another league. She allowed herself to be nudged backwards onto the couch, and without breaking the kiss, Slade shifted so that he was cradled between her legs. Holly felt her core temperature rocket, her heart starting to pound, and she suddenly found that her fingers were working on the buttons of his shirt. Slade gave a low chuckle in response.

"Holly Turner!" he said, with mock outrage, bracing his arms against the couch.

"What?" Holly responded, refusing to be made to feel embarrassed by the man who wanted this every bit as much as she did. The hesitancy she had felt earlier had completely evaporated.

"Nothing," Slade replied, looking into her eyes. "Please feel free to continue."

Holly was surprised at how naturally this was all coming to her, considering how long it had been since she – well, since she had been in this situation with a man. Come to think of it, she had never actually been in this precise situation with a man; the fervour she felt now was totally new. She had somehow been able to shrug out of her jacket and slip off her shoes, and now she was negotiating Slade's belt.

"Wait," Slade said, pulling away. His breathing, Holly noticed, now sounded ragged and uneven. She looked at him questioningly.

"Do you...do you want to do this here?"

Holly had started to think about this, too and, with a nod in the direction of the door, she extricated herself from beneath Slade and led him out of the room by the hand. She had barely closed the door to her bedroom before Slade was kissing her again, hoisting her onto the bed and quickly positioning himself above her. Whether he intended it or not this gave Holly easier access to his belt buckle. Slade shucked off his shirt. But just as Holly was allowing herself to appreciate this sight, she was struck by a thought.

"Hold on," she said, causing Slade to pause immediately. "Do...do you have anything?"

"Have anything?"

"You know...have you got anything with you?"

"Oh right. Yes, in my wallet."

He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and retrieved his wallet, which he deposited on the bed. Holly felt a measure of relief, but it set her mind – and her natural sense of curiosity - racing again.

"Slade, wait."

"Holly, if you're asking me to stop, that's fine, but I hope you've got some ice-cubes in your fridge."

"No, it's just – do you always carry one?"

"Not always. Just since I started to think it might come in handy one day and I should be prepared."

"So when was that?"

"That night in my flat, during the Sonja Duvall investigation."

"What, even after what I did?"

"Are you kidding? That's what made me think it could happen sometime."

Holly gave him a playful swipe, but it was making her look back on the last few months in a somewhat different light.

"So...just how often did you think about...this?" she asked, intrigued.

"What is it they say?" Slade replied. "Every six seconds?"

Holly couldn't help smiling in spite of herself and, wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled Slade down onto the bed.

"Are you dozing off?" Slade asked.

"Mmm? No," Holly replied, although that was exactly what she'd been doing. She couldn't remember ever feeling so relaxed and comfortable; her arms and legs felt like they belonged to someone else entirely. Her head was pillowed on Slade's chest, one arm around his middle as he lay propped against the headboard. He appeared to be finding this whole situation pretty amusing.

"I don't know whether I should take this as an insult," he said, laughing slightly.

"Mm, mm," she told him, shaking her head. The effort to formulate words seemed just a little beyond her reach.

"So I should take it as an endorsement of my abilities?"

Holly nudged him in the ribs.

"If your ego gets any bigger it's going to need its own postcode."

Slade laughed, and Holly wriggled back up the bed to lie beside him. This was what she hadn't dared to believe would ever happen, but now that it had, Holly allowed herself to accept how much she had wanted it. Not only was Slade in her bed, but he showed no signs of wanting to leave.

"I should never have thrown that beer over you that night," she reflected.

Slade shook his head.

"No, it was the best thing that could have happened."

Holly looked at him questioningly.

"What? But I thought maybe that -"

"We would have done this? Yeah, we probably would have, but that's my point."

"You didn't want to?"

"Of course I wanted to, Holly!" Slade laughed. "But the timing was all wrong. We barely knew each other, and you might have ended up hating me the next morning. I'd take a beer-shower over that any day of the week."

"That could probably be arranged."

There was a silence for a while, but Holly noted that it was the easy silence of two people who feel completely comfortable in each other's company.

"So..." Slade said eventually, broadly gesturing at the two of them. "This..."

"Yes?"

"Are we...what I mean is, do I need to get myself a second toothbrush?"

"Well, you're certainly not using mine," Holly told him, smiling. "That goes for shampoo and bath salts, too."

Slade rolled his eyes.

"I can see there are going to be a lot of new rules for me to get used to. I thought time-travelling was tricky enough."

He leaned over, pinning Holly beneath him.

"You might have to make it worth my while," he suggested, nuzzling in to her neck, something he'd quickly learned would drive her half crazy. "After all, I did give you twenty thousand pounds worth of electromagnetic crystal."

Holly pushed against him, trying in vain not to giggle, which seemed only to encourage Slade in his endeavours.

"It was second-hand," she reminded him. "So actually it would be worth quite a lot less in the open market."

"I also risked my life and sustained some really quite nasty injuries in the process. So..."

"Fine, I'll cook you dinner tomorrow night," she replied, pleased by her ability to keep a straight face.

Poised above her, Slade cocked his head to one side slightly.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Holly," he said, grinning. "There are things you can do a lot better than cooking..."

THE END


End file.
